


Parking Lots Should be Avoided at all Costs

by The3rdTrumpeteer



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, davey gets mugged, i can write funny stuff, spot is not happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 21:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16003241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The3rdTrumpeteer/pseuds/The3rdTrumpeteer
Summary: In which some muggers are incompetent, and Davey needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.





	Parking Lots Should be Avoided at all Costs

“Yeah, Spot, I just got out of a layout meeting,” Davey said, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he walked across the parking lot. His keys seemed to have fallen into the depths of his backpack, and he was having more trouble finding them than he would have liked. “I know, it’s exciting! This’ll be the first printed publication of the new school year, so we really wanted to start with some interesting stories. There’s--shit!”

Davey’s phone slipped from its perch beside his ear and hit the asphalt, and the crack he heard told him it had to be broken. “Damn it.”

He zipped up his backpack, momentarily abandoning the search for his keys, and reached down to grab his phone. But then there were footsteps behind him and someone shoved Davey, hard. He landed on his hands and knees and swore under his breath when the rough asphalt scraped his palms. He twisted to see who had pushed him and was surprised to see that it was a guy about his age, hood up to obscure his face. Davey was also surprised to see that the guy had some kind of pocketknife in his hand and was brandishing it shakily.

“Give me your stuff, man,” the guy said. 

Davey held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Well, I can’t just give you all my stuff. I got books and some notes and-”

“Give me your fuckin’ money!” The guy said, more angrily this time. “And your phone.”

“I think it’s broken-”

“I don’t fuckin’ care!”

“Fine.” Davey slowly reached for his phone, and he noticed that his call with Spot was still going. Hopefully, Spot had heard everything. He made a mental note to apologize to his boyfriend later and quickly ended the call before his mugger could see the screen. “Here.”

The guy took the phone. “Your wallet. Uh, your laptop.”

“We’re all in the same boat here,” Davey said instead of doing what he was told. “Y’know, college? You don’t have to do this-”

“You don’t know me!” The guy yelled. “Give me your shit, or I swear I’ll stab you.”

“Oh, you swear?” Shit, why did he say that? Davey used to be better at holding in his thoughts. What had happened? As it was, the mugger looked rather taken aback by the statement.

“Uh...yeah. I’ll-” 

Suddenly there were blue flashing lights at the edge of the lot. So Spot  _had_  heard everything, and he had apparently called the campus police.

“Fuck,” the guy muttered. He glanced around, evidently not sure what to do, and Davey took the opportunity to use his own version of one of the self-defense moves Spot had taught him and lunge at the guy’s legs. 

The good thing was that he managed to knock him down. The bad thing was that the guy seemed to be exceptionally good at holding onto things, and he still had his pocketknife, which he promptly stabbed Davey in the arm with.

“You stabbed me!” Davey said without thinking, grabbing the wound with the hand attached to his un-stabbed arm.

“I-I told you I would!” The guy looked panicked. He got up and ran, and this time Davey didn’t try to stop him; his hood had fallen down when Davey tackled him and revealed his entire face, so Davey knew exactly what he looked like.

Davey sat on the ground and watched the lights get closer until he could make out the car. It stopped, and two officers stepped out. 

“We got a call about a mugging from a ‘Spot Collins’?” One of them asked. Davey sighed at the butchering of Spot’s last night. He could already tell this was going to take forever.

* * *

 

“Davey, what the hell?” Was the first thing Spot said when he picked Davey up from the hospital; he had been made to go because it turned out his arm needed stitches. Spot had hugged him and then immediately started lecturing him. “You’re so stupid.”

“Hey, that’s mean.” But Davey really couldn’t argue. He was actually surprised the situation hadn’t been worse. “Everything worked out, though. They found the guy, like, an hour later.”

“You got stabbed!”

“ _Lightly_  stabbed.”

“You sound like Race when he keeps dying while he’s playing Skyrim or some shit,” Spot said with a small smile. “You’re usually so smart, Jacobs, but tonight you were definitely one of the dumbest people I know.”

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

Spot snorted. “Yeah.” He took a hand off the steering wheel and put it on Davey’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad I am, too.”

“Love you, Davey.”

“Love you, Spot.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: poorguysheadisdoingwhatnow


End file.
